Down from the Cross (3 page)

He paused thoughtfully. “What sort of skills do you have?”

She gave a slight shrug, wincing at the pain in her leg. “I–I really don’t have any skills. The only place I’ve ever worked is Big Bob’s Discount House. I started there my senior year of high school, stocking new merchandise, and I’ve been there ever since, nearly twelve years now.”

He gave her a slight frown. “Did you take typing or any business courses in high school?”

“I’m not sure if I took typing or it took me.” She chuckled. “I made terrible grades. That typing teacher was cranky and so demanding I cringed every time she looked at me. Even now, all these years later, just the thought of that pretentious woman makes me shudder. I’ve often thought maybe if I’d had a different teacher, I might have been a better typist. Who knows?”

Keene rubbed his chin as if in deep thought then strode to the window. Jane watched, waiting for him to make some comment, like her dad had done so many times, telling her she should have knuckled down, learned to type, and forgotten about the arrogant teacher. But he didn’t. After a few minutes, he turned slowly and, keeping his piercing brown-eyed gaze on her, stepped forward. “I think I may have an answer for you.”

Jane stared at him, trying to shake the cobwebs loose from her fuzzy brain.
What answer can he possibly provide to my employment dilemma, other than suggest filing for unemployment benefits? As if I haven’t already thought of that!

He moved closer to the bed, so near that without any effort at all she could reach out and touch him if she had a mind to. “When you feel like it, I’d like you to come work for me. Until you can find another job,” he added hastily.

If she had felt like laughing, she would have. “Doing what?”

He studied her face, looking at her as if he were seeing her for the first time and perhaps already regretting his blurted job offer. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

I thought it was too good to be true.

“I guess you don’t know who I am.”

She leveled a serious gaze at his handsome face. “You said your name was…”
Did he tell me? I can’t remember.

“I’d say that’s about enough. I don’t want you tiring my patient.” Mildred nodded toward him in drill sergeant fashion, moving from her place by the door to stand at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed firmly over her ample chest. She gave the man a stern-nurse look.

“I’m okay, Mildred,” Jane answered, curiosity about his answer to her question getting the better of her clouded judgment.

He hesitated, but when the woman continued to stand her ground, he continued. “I need someone to stuff envelopes for mailings, do some filing—general office stuff, answer the phone, run errands, and take things to the post office, that sort of thing. Nothing complicated. I’m sure you could do it, and I wouldn’t pressure you. You should be able to drive soon, since it’s your left leg.”

“I’m not the world’s best typist.”

He laughed out loud. “I gathered that. I don’t need you to break any speed records on the keyboard.” He hesitated, and she wondered if he was afraid to ask his next question for fear of her answer. “You do know how to work a computer, don’t you?”

She gave him a smile. “Yes, I’m pretty good on the computer, just not a good typist. One of the men at our church gave me his old computer when he bought a new one, and it has become my hobby. I’m on it, surfing the Net, whenever I can find a spare moment.”

He appeared relieved. “Good, because I just bought a new one with all the bells and whistles. I’m a novice myself, so I’ll be absolutely no help to you.”

Now that his offer had finally sunk in, she could hardly believe it. “You’re actually serious? About me coming to work for you?”

“Absolutely. You need a job and I need an assistant.” His warm and friendly smile was welcome. “I’ll pay you whatever your former job paid you, and once that leg of yours heals, you can take off whatever time you need to apply for a more suitable occupation.”

Aha! The caveat!
“I may not find a job right away. Jobs in Providence are pretty scarce right now. You do understand that, don’t you?”

His smile continued to be friendly. “Look,” he said, taking her hand in his, “I don’t expect you to find a job right away.

In fact, I hope you don’t.” He chuckled mischievously. “You don’t know how far behind I am in my filing and myriad other things. But once you have worked for me—if you do a decent job—I’ll be able to give you a good recommendation. That should help you find another job.”

His offer sounded like God’s answer to the prayer she had been sending up to Him since the moment she was placed on layoff status. But what did she know about this man?

“Jane, I just heard about your accident!”

Jane glanced past her guest and Nurse Mildred, smiling as she caught sight of Karen Doyle, her best friend and prayer partner, bounding into the cubicle clutching a small bouquet of baby roses.

“Oh, sweetie! This is just awful!” The pretty blond-haired woman dressed in a pale blue jogging suit hurried to Jane’s side. “I’ve been so worried about you since Pastor Congdon called and told me some man had run his BMW into your little Chevy Aveo. Are you all right? Does your leg hurt very much?”

“I’m going to be fine. The accident broke my ankle,” Jane said, gesturing toward it, “and I got this nasty bump on my head, but other than that, I think I’m doing okay.”

Karen’s eyes widened. “Oh, honey, are they sure you don’t have other injuries? I mean, you could have—”

“No, no other injuries,” Jane assured her, gesturing toward Keene. “This is the man who caused the accident. He’s just offered me a job.”

Karen gave him a snarling stare. “You caused the accident?”

He nodded then looked back to Jane and raised his brows. “Do we have a deal?”

She hesitated. How could she resist such an offer? But what if she couldn’t perform the work to his satisfaction? Or he turned out to be difficult to work for?

“You’re Keene Moray!” Karen’s face filled with a pleased look of surprise.

Jane’s gaze immediately shifted to the man’s face.

“Jane and I have all your CDs!” Karen went on, moving quickly to stand by him. “What are you doing in Providence, of all places?”

Awestruck herself, Jane pulled up to a seated position and stared at the man, her jaw dropping. “You’re Keene Moray!” Her hand went to her chest, and her heart pounded wildly. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”

He brushed past Mildred, nodding. “Yep. Guilty. That’s me.”

Nurse Mildred tapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t care if you’re Elvis Presley come back to haunt us. This girl needs her rest, and you two are keeping her from getting it.”

Keene gave the nurse an agreeing smile. “You’re absolutely right. She’s had enough excitement for one day.” Then, turning to Jane, he said. “We’ll talk later. Just do what the doctor tells you so you can get well.”

Karen patted Jane’s hand. “I’d better go, too, honey. I’m due at work in half an hour, but I wanted to see how you were doing and bring the flowers by. I know you like baby roses. Call me when you get home.” She turned to Keene with a grin, sticking out her hand. “It was so nice to meet you, Mr. Moray. I can’t wait to tell the girls at my office I’ve actually met a star!”

He took her hand and smiled back at her. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”

Both he and Jane watched Karen, and then he turned to her, his smile fading. “I’m sorry, Miss Delaney. I truly am. I never meant for this to happen. I meant what I said. I’ll do anything to make this up to you.”

Although she was furious with him for his carelessness, his sincerity touched her heart, and she found herself mellowing. Especially now that she knew who he was. “I’m sorry for my outburst, Mr. Moray, but you have no idea how…” She paused, gulping at the enormity of the problems she was facing. “Thanks for coming.”

“My offer of a job still stands,” he said kindly. “But I really need your answer as quickly as possible. Good-bye, Miss Delaney.”

Jane nodded and then watched until the curtain closed behind him. Turning to Mildred she asked, “How soon do you think I can leave?”

Before the nurse could answer, the doctor entered, wearing a warm smile. “I’ve already signed your release papers. You can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Keene sat in the hospital lobby, waiting, unable to think of anything except Jane Delaney. Even with that nasty bump on her head and her dark hair pulled back in one of those ponytail things, he could tell she was beautiful. One look at those wounded blue eyes, and he knew he had to do whatever he could to right the wrongs he had caused. She looked so vulnerable lying there on that bed, her head bandaged, her leg broken. He had wanted to sweep her up in his arms and take care of her, tell her everything was going to be okay. Good thing he’d had a chance to speak to that doctor as he’d left her room. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have known she was being released right away.

What a day this had been. He had left the state capitol area, fully intending to drive past the convention center and then return to his condominium to get a little work done. Instead, he had spent the last hour in the hospital emergency room. Not that he minded, because he didn’t. The accident
had
been his fault. The least he could do was try to make things up to the poor, unfortunate woman who had been driving the other car.

He snickered audibly as their conversation about her God filtered through his mind.
Too bad she is willing to put her faith in a myth. How can she possibly believe there is a God?
Although his years of training had centered on his voice and his music, he had taken a few scientific courses in college that totally disproved God’s existence. Surely, no one with any sense at all could believe in such a fairy tale.

Well, her beliefs were her own. As long as she did not try to force them on him, they would get along fine. Drumming his fingers idly on his knee, he glanced at the big wall clock. How long could it take to check out of the hospital? He had already told the accounting department he would take care of all her bills.

“Could you call a taxi for me, please?”

He turned quickly toward the voice coming from near the reception desk, and there she was, sitting helplessly in a wheelchair, her foot propped up on the footrest. Jane Delaney. The woman whose life he had ruined in one careless second. He rose and hurried to her side. “You don’t need a taxi. I’ll take you home.”

The look she gave him told him that his plans were not her plans. “Thank you, Mr. Moray, but that won’t be necessary. I–I know you’re a busy man. You’ve already done enough by paying my bill.” Her voice was gentle but firm, leaving him unsure of what to say next.

“But I insist. I’m the one who upset your life.”

With a sigh that could only mean exasperation, she gave him a disparaging look. “I’ve already asked this nice lady to call for a taxi. I don’t mean to be rude, and I
am
a great fan of yours, but—”

“You’re afraid to ride with a stranger, is that it?”

“I–I guess so.”

“I’m completely harmless, I can assure you.” He moved a step closer. “Taking you home is the least I can do.”

She turned to the woman at the desk, who sat waiting for further direction, the phone still in her hand. “Go ahead, please. Call a taxi. I can’t impose on this nice man.”

Keene had never taken rejection kindly, in any form. “You’re sure you won’t change your mind?”

Jane fiddled with her purse’s shoulder strap, and he knew she was avoiding his eyes. “I–I’d better take the taxi home.”

He stood staring at her, thinking how people crowded around him at the end of his concerts, begging for his autograph. And how he couldn’t go anywhere without someone literally hanging on to his coat sleeve, trying to strike up a conversation about one of the arias he’d sung or their favorite CD he’d recorded. However, this woman was different. She was actually trying to avoid being with him, and somehow he found it almost refreshing—challenging. He raised his brows in question. “You are going to accept my offer, aren’t you?”

She lifted her big blue eyes to meet his, and once again he noticed how pretty her delicate features were, despite the huge knot on her forehead. Her complexion was flawless, giving those blue eyes a China doll quality.

“Do you really want me to work for you, or are you just being kind?”

“Of course I want you to work for me. I made the offer, didn’t I?” He hoped his smile was convincing.

She returned his smile, although it seemed somewhat guarded. “Then, yes, I accept, but only until I’m able to get out of my cast and find another job.”

He decided to push once more. “You’ll come to work for me, but you won’t accept my offer of a ride home?”